by Tessa Candle
Mr. Norwood's fists clenched. “Be so good, my lord, as to identify him, so that I may put a slug in him myself.”
“I understand the sentiment, believe me,” Aldley tried to console the man. “But unfortunately neither of us has standing to duel him over this. I, because I am no relation of your daughter. And you, because, although he is an unworthy bounder, he is also the second son of a Viscount.”
“Do you mean Delacroix, my lord?”
“You are acquainted?” Aldley caught his breath. He sincerely hoped that Delacroix was not a suitor to Miss Norwood.
“He has once called on my daughter at my home in London. And before that he came to my club as a guest of one of the members. He has probably been suspended from his own club—the man's gambling is clearly out of control. We played at piquet and he put up a deed for the contents of an entire shipment of coffee, still en route—if it is not lost at sea, which I should not put past him. Indeed I shouldn't have let him bet so high, for he was not thinking clearly and was gambling like a madman. But, in all honesty, I had already taken a disliking to him, even before I had so much cause as I now do.”
“I know I have no right to advise you, Mr. Norwood, but I believe you should not confront him. Rather, make certain your daughter is always closely guarded. And as he is apparently aware of the treetop hut...”
“Indeed. I know what I must do. That hut is a childhood fancy which I have indulged, but which has become hazardous. Thank you, my lord, for taking the trouble to bring this to my attention. I am greatly in your lordship's debt—but I must beg for continued discretion.”
“You have my word that I shall not speak of this to any other person. Rutherford knows of our true reason for being here, but he is also sworn to secrecy. I shall vouch for his silence.”
Mr. Norwood nodded and lapsed into quiet thoughtfulness for a few moments, before asking, “Am I to assume, then, that your lordship does not wish to see Aristophanes?”
“No, indeed. I should very much like to see him.”
Mr. Norwood stroked his chin and smiled. “Well, then, I should warn you, my lord, that my daughter will be taking him through his paces. He is rather more her hunter than mine.”
“Miss Norwood? She is here?” Aldley was not prepared for this surprise, but he could not help returning Mr. Norwood's smile briefly. He was a little surprised at how very much he wanted to see her again.
“Yes, and in light of what your lordship has just told me, I am rather glad not to have left her in London. Though at least for the time being, I should prefer not to discuss this with her.”
“I should not dream of raising the topic.”
As Aldley accompanied Mr. Norwood out into the pasture, he found Rutherford already leaning against the fence watching Miss Norwood riding a great grey beast of a horse.
Around the green enclosure she raced, jumping obstacles and making rapid turns with an apparent effortlessness. Intermittent beams of sunlight suddenly lit up her face and a single copper tress on her cheek, before receding behind clouds again in a teasing pulse of shadow and light.
Her hair was braided neatly into a coil underneath her riding bonnet, and she wore a wine coloured velvet habit, which clung to her trim figure rather appealingly. She did not ride side-saddle, but astride, the tails of her skirts flying up as she urged the magnificent stallion over pickets.
Aldley felt a deep heat flood his insides. He imagined how she might look loping through the fields on that giant, with her hair loose, tumbling and flowing around her shoulders. He had to stop this line of thought. Her father was standing not ten feet away.
He turned to Rutherford, who had a look of rapt admiration on his face. Aldley found it slightly irritating. Indeed, his friend ought not gape so openly—at least not in front of Mr. Norwood. No, he should not be gaping at all. It was not decent.
He drew close to Rutherford and muttered, “Good Lord, man, try to keep your eyes in your head.”
“Why should I not admire such a magnificent creature?” Rutherford replied sotto voce.
“Because it is not civil—true it is almost indecent. Her father is standing right there.”
“I see. You are cross with me because you think that, instead of viewing the horse which you are supposed to be interested in, I am making calf eyes at a young woman whom you are supposed not to be interested in. Is that about it?” Rutherford looked quizzically at Aldley with raised brows and lazily lowered lids.
Aldley coughed. “You are so smug when you think you are crafting a work of satire. How was I to know you were looking at the horse?”
“I believe it would have been obvious to anyone whose thoughts had not been elsewhere engaged.”
“Nonsense.”
“But now that you mention it, the girl is not bad, either. If you will not make an offer, I might.”
Aldley clenched his teeth. He did not trust himself to reply.
“—On the horse, I mean.” Rutherford's lip upturned just a little on one side. “Though I dare say we can now do away with the notion that the young lady is a bluestocking.”
She finished the course and brought the horse up to the fence where her father stood. She leaned forward and whispered something in the horse's ear. Aristophanes bent his forelegs and lowered his head slightly to make a little bow to her father, then picked a dandelion with his teeth and offered it to him.
Aldley chuckled. She was utterly charming. He could scarcely believe the rapport she had with the animal. She swung gracefully off his back, not waiting for the servant, and produced a carrot from her pocket, which the great stallion nibbled politely from her hand.
“Why on earth is Norwood selling this horse?” He murmured to Rutherford. “It is most obvious that the beast is her pet—she has trained him to do precisely what she likes. And they ride together like they were made for it. It is atrocious to think of separating them.”
“I was just thinking the same thing. But it is nothing to the point. You could look for years and never find horse flesh like that, Aldley, and here it is falling into your lap. Her loss is your gain.”
“You cannot be so mercenary. Have you no feeling? And anyway, do you think that nag would even let me get near him?” Aldley looked a little nervously at the animal. “He is all sweetness for her, but he has a devilish gleam in his eye when he looks at us. I believe she may have spoiled him for any other owner.”
“That is a real concern, seeing as how you cannot ride a hobby horse. Perhaps we should get you a nice elderly mare, instead. It is much harder to fall out of a swayback. I shall take on the retraining of Aristophanes.”
Aldley thought his friend might be only half joking. He strode over to Mr. Norwood and his daughter, whose skin was alluringly flushed from the exercise, and whose green eyes sparkled as she fed carrots to the stallion.
He could not help smiling at her. She smiled back and his heart skipped a beat. She was perfect, a true original, how could he ever have had any doubts? Mr. Norwood beckoned to Rutherford, and introduced him to his daughter.
“What a marvellous animal. Beautiful and obviously intelligent. And you ride astoundingly well, Miss Norwood.” Aldley finally spoke to her, but could not help feeling that his praise was worthless, considering his own inability to ride even passably.
“Thank you, my lord. I have been riding since I was very young. It came much more naturally than needlework, I am afraid.”
“We all have our strengths.” A stupid smile spread over Aldley's face as he remembered dancing with her, smelling her skin and feeling the luscious curve of her back.
“I should say riding is a much more exhilarating accomplishment, would not you, Aldley?” Rutherford clapped his friend on the back. “And it insures that a young lady gets sufficient exercise, which is a disadvantage of needlework or playing the pianoforte . Do you play, Miss Norwood?”
“I believe it would be un-Christian of me to subject anyone to my offerings on that, or any other instrument. I do enjoy music.
That is to say, I appreciate hearing good music far too well to tolerate my own fumbling clamour.” Her smile was playful, dazzling.
“Aldley here plays very well, and sings too, if you can get him to do it. So you see, you each have at least one accomplishment that is somewhat unusual for your sex.”
“I have had the pleasure of hearing his lordship sing, briefly and unfortunately through a wall, at Lady Goodram's home. I believe I have never heard a finer voice.” She looked a little embarrassed at the confession.
Aldley smiled and bowed, resisting the urge to clasp her hand to his chest so she could feel his heart. “You are too kind, Miss Norwood.”
“Do not misconstrue the young lady's words, Aldley.” Rutherford cocked his head to the side. “I believe she just said it was a pleasure to hear you sing briefly and through a wall.”
“No, indeed.” Miss Norwood laughed. “I should have wished to hear more. I think his lordship's talent must be a great boon to his acquaintance.” Her gaze met Aldley's briefly and she blushed prettily. Aldley wished to draw her close to him, kiss those lovely, smiling lips.
“It would be, if he would ever perform for me.” Rutherford gave him a sidelong glance.
Aldley knew he should say something or he would look reserved, but he was terribly distracted. “I should not wish to displace the efforts of the young ladies. They seem to so enjoy any opportunity of performing, that it would be selfish to deny them the pleasure, particularly when it is a matter of indifference to me whether or not I play for an audience.”
“These are the kindest of intentions, to be sure, my lord. But do you not also consider that you are depriving them the very great pleasure of hearing you play and sing?” Miss Norwood was smiling at him openly. Did she like him? Did her heart beat like his did?
“No one has complained. And as for my never playing, you only have Rutherford's word for it, and I warn you, he is a rogue and a mischief maker.” Aldley made himself laugh a little more easily than he felt.
“Is it not bold of him to defame me to my face? I suppose an earl may take whatever liberties he will.” Rutherford assumed an expression of martyrdom.
“Being an earl is nothing to the point. It is only defamation if it is not true.” Aldley could see she was now shaking with laughter, which made her look down, as he wished she would not.
And yet, although he was mesmerized by the deep green colour of her eyes, he could not help noticing that her ivory lids curved perfectly over them when she cast her gaze downward. Her lashes were thick and surprisingly dark for a woman of her hair colour.
There was one little freckle on the outer corner of her right eye that was perfectly situated so as to invite his finger to graze over it. He straightened suddenly, and adjusted his already perfectly tied neck cloth.
Aldley turned to Mr. Norwood, who had stood quietly observing this whole exchange and grinning broadly.
“Perhaps we should discuss an offer, Mr. Norwood. For the horse.”
At his words, Aldley remarked that Miss Norwood was no longer laughing, but reached out possessively to touch the stallion's neck. He thought he could see tears in her eyes before she turned her face away from the party, and focused her attention on scratching Aristophanes' ears. His heart clenched. How could her father even consider selling the favourite pet of such an angel?
“But, indeed,” he added, “I have some scruple that perhaps the animal should not be separated from the one who appears to have trained him so well.”
“Perhaps, my lord.” Mr. Norwood's heart seemed heavy. “But I think we must sell him. My daughter is now of an age where she must think of marrying and running a household, not jumping over hedges. She will be in London now for the foreseeable future anyway.”
During this speech, Miss Norwood kept her back to them. It felt entirely wrong—against Aldley's every instinct to separate her from her favourite horse. No matter how meekly she was going along with her father's scheme, it must be making her utterly miserable.
Despite an alarming desire to remain in her presence as long as possible, he felt it was unkind to be talking of the matter in front of her. “Perhaps we should sit down and discuss it between ourselves. Miss Norwood may prefer to have a proper ride on Aristophanes.”
Mr. Norwood took the hint. “Yes, of course, my lord. Won't you and Mr. Rutherford join me in the parlour, again?”
In the end it was settled that Lord Aldley would purchase the horse for the asking price, plus fees for boarding. The stallion would remain at Nesterling Lodge indefinitely, and at the disposal of Miss Norwood.
For, the earl observed, “It is in my best interest that the horse remain under the excellent training he has thus far enjoyed for as long as possible.”
Mr. Norwood appeared to accept this arrangement, despite the obvious logical flaw that Aldley would not be able to ride a horse situated so far away. Nor would the excellent trainer have much opportunity to do so, as long as she was resident in London. Mr. Norwood very cordially invited them to stay to supper.
“I thank you for your kind hospitality, but I fear we must return to the city,” replied Rutherford pre-emptively, to Aldley's great irritation. “I have business that requires my attention, and I believe the earl also has some matters to look into, have you not, Aldley?”
“I do not know what you mean.” Aldley wondered what Rutherford's problem was.
“Well, I had assumed you had some involvement in the upcoming ball.” Rutherford's face betrayed that he knew how weak this excuse sounded.
“Not at all. It is all my mother's doing, and she does not countenance male incompetence in such important schemes. She would most certainly think me in the way.” Aldley tried not to openly scowl at Rutherford.
“Lady Aldley is to host a ball soon, is she, my lord? Yes, well, these matters are perhaps best left to the female sex.” Mr. Norwood affected a nervous laugh. “A bit too much blood sport for me, I am afraid.”
“You have a point, there. But have you not heard of the ball? Has Miss Norwood not received an invitation?” Aldley could not believe it.
“I could not swear to it, my lord, but I do believe Mrs. Norwood would have mentioned it.”
“I shall see to it that one is sent immediately. I apologize for the oversight. Perhaps it just got lost.” When Aldley thought about it, there was really no reason why his mother should invite Miss Norwood—quite the contrary, in fact.
There was almost no connection between their families at all, and his mother had already expressed her disapproval of Miss Norwood's rumoured tree-climbing, which he had long since decided was utterly charming. But somehow, he had simply been assuming that Miss Norwood would be at the ball.
Although he had not consciously thought of it, a part of him had been looking forward to dancing with her again. But now that he thought about it, it had been rather unrealistic to leave the invitation up to his mother.
Yet he wanted her at that ball. He should very much like to take the opportunity of chatting with Miss Norwood over dinner now, too, if Rutherford were not being such a wet blanket.
“That is most obliging of you, my lord.” Mr. Norwood seemed quite beside himself and utterly ill-equipped to deal with the delicate arts of balls and invitations. “I assure you I keenly feel, as I know my wife and daughter will, the honour your lordship pays us and the kindness of this condescension. I should explain—I mean I am rather sure that your lordship and Lady Aldley have not received an invitation to our upcoming ball. I should like to assure you, my lord, that is only because we did not presume to send one. It will never be such a grand affair as the Aldley ball, of course. However, if your lordship should have any wish to attend, it would make us exceedingly happy to send invitations.”
“I thank you, Mr. Norwood. I cannot speak for my mother of course, but I should be very much obliged to receive an invitation.” Aldley thought things were going rather well, and would be better still had he not brought gloomy old Rutherford along.
“I shall see to it, then, my lord. It is a shame your lordship and Mr. Rutherford cannot stay, for it is rather late to begin the journey back to London.”
“You are exceedingly kind, Mr. Norwood.” Rutherford intervened once again. “But I believe we must make a start at least. I've a good team. I think we may make the Stag and Sparrow early enough for dinner. From there it will be a mere hour's drive to London, and we shall arrive more refreshed.”
Aldley really wanted to stomp on Rutherford's highly polished Hessians. What on earth was wrong with the man?
They took their leave and departed. But as soon as they were in the carriage and safely rolling down the drive, Aldley could no longer suppress his irritation. “I should very much like to know what business you have in town that could possibly be so urgent that you would decline supper on my behalf.”
“Do not be piqued. I should have thought I was expressing your own interest.”
“My own interest? Such as my preference for half-warm, stale-larded inn food, rather than a proper meal, I suppose?” Aldley glowered at Rutherford.
“No.” Rutherford spoke slowly as if talking to a dull child. “I was referring to your expressed preference not to be presumed engaged to Mr. Norwood's daughter.”
“What are you on about? It is quite natural to dine with an acquaintance after concluding business. There is nothing more to it.” Aldley straightened his impeccable cravat in frustration.
“That might be true, if you had not as good as purchased an engagement gift for the business acquaintance's daughter.”
“Nonsense. I purchased a horse and paid boarding fees. It was not a gift of any sort, much less a gift to her.”
